Bright and Sweet
by and her magical cat Roscoe
Summary: Kelly makes a connection in an Acapulco cantina. A brief respite from the life of a spy and a limeflavored refresher in the power of taste. HetFic. Standalone. Entry in the KissieFic Challenge. Please see my Author Page for more info.


**Bright and Sweet**

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_Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or situations created for "I Spy"; I am borrowing them purely for entertainment purposes and am making no profit from their use. Thank you to the creators, the cast, producers, writers, directors, and crew for giving us this wonderful, timeless show and the characters that bring it to life. _

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This vignette is the first is in the "KissieFics" series created by and for the writers of _Culpalicious_, the Robert Culp Fan Forum. If you'd like to see more from the Culpalicious cadre of writers, please click on the Home Page link on my Author page or enter "Culpalicious" in your Web search engine. Thanks for reading!

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_-_

_Acapulco_

Candle flames flickered in the sudden breeze as the cantina door swung in. She looked up to see Kelly Robinson step into the room.

A shower of droplets pattered on the weathered oak floor as he shook out the hem of his hip-length navy wind breaker. The candle light caught in the crystalline beads of rain dotting his lashes, betraying the subtle shift of his eyes as he scanned the smokey bar. 

She nudged the neighboring stool with the toe of her boot. The bare wood scraped on the pitted floorboards. With an almost imperceptible nod, he started across the room.

He moved with the casual grace that came from years of hard physical training. The corded muscles visible under his soft, white denim slacks hinted at sunlit days spent pounding the clay court. The smile quirking the corner of his delicately curved lips hinted at moonlit nights on cool linen sheets.

He made his own music as he crossed the weathered oak, the faint scritch of his soft-soled shoes on the sawdust setting a counterpoint rhythm to the chink of glasses behind the bar.

One of the quartet of dark-eyed men hunched over the round table at the center of the room, tipped his chair back on two legs as Kelly passed.

The casual observer might not have noticed the stiffness in the way he tucked his elbow into his side as he did a quick two-step to shift around the obstacle. But she wasn't a casual observer.

He slid onto the bare wooden stool beside her.

His legs were too long for the narrow space under the bar. He shifted and brought his knees around to rest against her thigh. The friction of denim on denim raised the hair on her arms. She half-turned to make room, but he rested one long-fingered hand on her thigh, holding her in place.

She ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips and relaxed into his gentle grip with a conscious effort. She tipped her head to look up into his boyish face. 

"Tequila?" she said.

He nodded and she noticed the way his angular jaw tightened at the slight movement.

She inclined her head toward the gray-haired bartender. A shot glass plunked down at her elbow an instant later. The man's thick-padded fingers moved with surprising speed as he tugged the cork from the slender bottle and sloshed a portion of amber liquid into the glass.

He shoved a terra cotta dish of lime wedges across the stained bartop and moved down the counter without a word.

She lifted her mug of the local thick, sweet milk drink and took a long sip. She watched as Kelly shifted in his seat.

The hand that rested against his abdomen shifted as if to reach for his glass. His lips tightened and she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Can I give you a hand?" she said softly. "I wish you would," he murmured and she was pleased to see some of the tightness in his shoulders ease.

She pushed her mug away and reached for the salt cellar. It felt greasy under her fingers.

When she looked back, she found him watching her. His wide eyes traced a line along her arm, to her upturned face.

She'd noticed before that their color deepened when he was troubled. Now they reminded her of a midnight forest, a shadowed and secret green.

He released his light hold on her thigh to reach for his glass and she felt a plunge in the pit of her stomach at the dual loss of his touch and his gaze.

"Want to tell me about it?" she said, turning the salt cellar in her hand as he lifted his glass. 

His mouth quirked in a wry smile. The blush of his lips was unusually bright and she realized he was pale despite his tan. 

"Just the usual fun and games," he said. "Forty less than friendly guys with crowbars, Scotty, and me."

"Nice way to while away an evening," she said, fighting to keep her voice even, despite the sudden tightness in her chest. "So where is your better half?"

"He went to see a man about a doubloon. Ready?" he said, cocking one finely arched eyebrow. 

She nodded.

"First the salt," she said. 

She raised her free hand to her parted lips and traced a line from her wrist to her finger with the tip of her tongue. Shifting her grip on the salt cellar, she tipped it carefully over the spot. White crystals stood out against her skin.

She lifted her hand to his face. His eyes never broke contact with hers as he bent forward. She drew in a long breath as his lips touched her skin.

They were soft and as warm as the first touch of the Acapulco sun on a midsummer morning. She felt the heat of his caress spread through her.

Her eyes felt feverishly bright as she watched him straighten. He didn't release her hand right away, instead slipping his fingers around her wrist and pulling it forward with a light pressure.

She let him press her palm to his chest, catching her breath at the feel of his heartbeat, thrumming under her fingertips. 

Her focus seemed to narrow then to the point where the tip of this tongue emerged to touch the salt clinging to his parted lips.

Over the sound of her own throbbing pulse she heard him murmur, "Then the shot."

He released her hand and retrieved his glass from the bar. She could smell the sharp tang of the Tequila as he raised the glass and took a long swallow.

His nostrils flared as he drew in a long breath before exhaling a long steady sigh. Already his eyes were brighter and a slight flush tinged his high cheekbones.

He glanced away then to put down his glass, but on an impulse she raised her hand and reached for it.

"Let me," she said.

He raised an eyebrow again as she took the glass from his fingers and placed it on the bar. Then she reached for the limes.

She scooped a wedge up the side of the dish. It was chilly against her fingers but she couldn't have said it was the lime that was cool or her skin that hot.

A slight pressure of her fingertips raised a glistening bead of juice on the pith. She noticed the way it shimmered in the flickering light as she raised it to his lips.

He bent forward and she wondered if she imagined that his breath was quicker, sharper, as she felt it brush the back of her wrist.

His tongue darted out first, dipping to trace the shining pulp. She held very still as his mouth closed around the wedge. His lower lip brushed her thumb and she inhaled sharply.

He lowered his eyes as he bit into the lime, drawing in the juice with a tugging pressure against the tender pulp.

As he leaned away she saw his eyes turn up in a slow smile. She placed the spent wedge on the bar, moving automatically as she stared, fascinated at the fullness of his lips. 

A tiny fleck of pulp clung to the corner of his mouth. Without a word, reached up to brush it away with her thumb.

The breath caught in her throat as he turned his head into her touch. He pressed a kiss to the ball of her thumb, then reached up and held her hand open, bending to kiss her open palm. 

Her world compressed to the point where his skin met hers. She was aware of him pulling her forward with a gentle, steady force. Felt him shift his grip to raise her hand to his shoulder. Felt the damp clinging to his windbreaker as he slid his hand along her arm. Knew his touch at the small of her back. Saw his eyelashes brush his cheek as they fluttered closed. Inhaled the heady scent of his skin, warm and spicy-dark, and then-

First she tasted the citrus tang of the lime, clean and bright. Then the salt, shimmery and acid sharp. Then the bite of the Tequila, smokey and strong. Then his mouth, warm and rich and startlingly sweet like berries in winter.

When at last he leaned away, breaking the contact with one last silken kiss, she blinked at the surprise of feeling the world rush back into her senses. The candlelight, the chinking glasses, and the smell of beer all seemed to swell in intensity. 

But none of it was as real as the feel of his damp windbreaker under her hand.

He smiled. And she felt a glow start in her belly, radiating out to every nerve ending. She saw him inhale and as his lips parted the cantina door swung open.

They both turned. Scotty stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders brushing the edge of the frame.

When she looked back at Kelly, his jaw was set in that familiar determined line. He shifted and slid from the stool. She wasn't aware until later that he had moved her hand down to her lap.

"Wait here?" he said softly as he shook out the line of his jacket.

She nodded.

"Good," he said, and a little of the grin touched his dark eyes. "Save my seat."

In a few quick strides he was across the room. The hinges of the door creaked in the sudden stillness of the room.

Her stomach tightened as she became aware that all eyes were turned to the slowly swinging door. A pair of men in black sport jackets and amber lensed glasses pushed back their chairs with a sound that echoed against the old wood. They slipped out the door without a word.

She turned to the bartender, tugging the change purse from the front pocket of her jeans. She slapped a pair of coins on the bar and slipped from her stool.

"Tell Carlo," she said, noting his brisk nod as she turned toward the door and the night.

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**Author's Note**

I do hope you had as much fun with this little ficlet as I did. I'm new to "I Spy" and the wonderfulness of Mr. Robinson, but I'm learning fast and I have experienced guides to help me.

Thanks especially to my Kelly-muse, pheral. Your constant encouragement and love of all things Kell convinced me to go for myself. Never-ending karma and a catnip-covered Kelly to you! bamf!


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